


The Vision

by yournewlodger



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 19:09:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8857396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yournewlodger/pseuds/yournewlodger
Summary: Yasuhiro Hagakure has never had very accurate predictions, but when he has a vision about an upcoming murder, he has to make a decision between what is right and what is convenient to him.





	

The vision started late in the night, coming to him with mild accuracy. It was blurry, and vague, and hazy like staring into fog. That’s how they all were. They’d come like dreams, the hot and desperate dreams which clawed at the sheets. The kind of dreams that twisted your limbs into your covers, and fingers entangled in hair, and eyes squeezing shut though they do not prevent you from seeing. 

The vision entailed a pre-conceived event to come. Soon there would be another trial, one that would lead to the old fashioned burning of a witch. He envisioned Celestia Ludenberg, hammer in hand, and as she struck it down his heart sank with it. Foggy visions did not allow room for victims. Just a large hazy blob of fat and pink and- Of course. It was Hifumi he saw. In the vision. Two people. Celestia Ludenberg had planned for two.

Yasuhiro jolted up as though he’d been struck by lightning, everything rigid and coated in sweat. For a second it felt like a night terror, like sleep paralysis, but when he brought his shaky hands to his face it was not so. His words were never particularly eloquent, so all that escaped his lips was a soft bewildered “Whoa…”

 

He exhaled this big gasp of breath, and out came words he instinctively ejected a soft “Oh man…” and a quiet “Oh boy…” He felt it too. The throbbing in his head the vision brought. That must mean it was actually real this time. It must.

When faced with a textbook definition moral dilemma, and a curse of clairvoyance, you might find yourself wondering what you can possibly do. Some might bow and shake their head and say, well, there was nothing I could do. That’s the kind of decision you make that’ll keep you up at night. And maybe, just maybe Kiyotaka’s squeaky clean influence rubbed off on him just a little bit. Because Yasuhiro brought his shaky hands out in front of him, and symbolically one held what was right and what was convenient.

Yasuhiro Hagakure was always a slave to what was convenient in his life. What was convenient for him and his safety and what would save his own neck. He always liked the comfortable, warm, secure feeling that came with convenience. He liked the taste of financial security, he liked being safe and warm and never having to be afraid. But maybe that last part couldn’t be helped.

 

On the other hand was what was right. The straight and narrow right thing to do. It was an issue of morals. Under the eyes of the gods, or the cryptids, the aliens, the court. The decision that would paint you a hero. Even if it meant some blind act of vigilante justice, he knew he’d be executed anyway. That’s how it works. But maybe, he thought, maybe if it was the right and good and just thing to do… it wouldn’t matter? And maybe, even so, he’d get that quick flash of heroism. Hagakure always did prefer to shorten his name to ‘Hiro.’

 

In one hand he held what was convenient, and in the other hand he held what was right. One hand clasped shut, and he waited for morning.

 

He was sure he could take her on if it really came down to it. Celestia was a small girl, even if she was a liar he was pretty sure she wasn’t sucking in a whole lot of weight. He remembered hearing about girls back in those Victorian Europe times with the pinchy corsets, he figured that it probably inhibited mobility. So she’d be slow and skinny. It was way easy. 

Breakfast was tense that morning. Probably because of all the empty seats. Some people were already gone of course, but some people didn’t even bother to come to breakfast anymore.

Yasuhiro sunk in his seat, holding up his hands again. Right and Convenient. He didn’t realize it, but the breath he exhaled came out a little too loud.

“You look tense.” Commented an ever rigid and reasonable voice. Kyoko Kirigiri. Super High School Level No-Shit-Sherlock.

“...Yeah.” His words didn’t really make too much sense to him at the moment, but luckily his auto-pilot mind still had an alright grasp on the English Language (or Japanese Language, depending on the version of the game.) “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Clearly.” She replied, her purple gaze lifting up from her off-brand MonoMono-O’s. “I would hate to be cliche. But you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I think I have.” He became momentarily particularly annoyed in a piece of hair falling over his face.

“...You know.” Kirigiri had a pretty deductive look in her eye, she always had that when she was thinking. That little purple gleam. Like a star. “You aren’t making yourself look any less suspicious by saying things like that. Someone might think you’ve killed someone.” She gripped the sides of her bowl and picked it up. “A word of advice. If you’re visibly nervous, people will probably think you’re up to something.” And she got up and she left. Probably to dump her milk in the sink and wasting some perfectly good milk she could’ve drank! But Yasuhiro didn’t have time to be upset about spilled milk.

He knew she didn’t really suspect him of anything, and if she did, maybe she was just being a really chill friend and holding her tongue. And sure, technically, he hadn’t actually done anything yet. So maybe she was thinking he’d chicken out? What was he saying! No way she could deduce all that from his lame ghost comment! She’d have to be some kind of detective to think that! But her so brazenly dumping her cereal milk in the sink gave him an idea. The kitchen, now presumably empty with Kirigiri off to her own devices, was filled with tools for destruction. Monokuma made sure it was.

He looked to his hands again. What was right. And what was convenient. He had another chance to turn back. Every single convenience loving, laid-back, no-backbone part of him screamed to keep his little stupid self out of this. If you don’t try, you won’t get hurt. And you get to live on with your stupid little convenient life until you eventually get killed, or die of old age in this hellhole.

Maybe he didn’t want to die of old age.

They didn’t have butter knives in Hope’s Peak. They had cleavers and bread knives and meat carvers and- no. That would all be overkill. There was one, small, simple knife. He’d never really held one in his hand with this intent before, and it was giving him all kinds of bad vibes. 

He slipped it into his loose jacket before anyone could notice.

Being a clairvoyant, the greatest insult to your talent would be to lose your mind. When you are a clairvoyant your mind, gifted as it is, is your greatest attribute. And he felt like he was losing it. This isn’t what normal people do - listening to the voices in their head. He clawed at the thick strands of matted hair at the sides of his head. Maybe- maybe he was just going crazy? Did Monokuma take pleads of insanity?

He swayed through the halls, his legs feeling like jelly underneath him. He knew, if he did this, he’d die. Because that was the only option he had. He was doing this to save them. So he might as well turn himself in. Was his life worth more than that of Hifumi and Taka’s? Did he really care about those people enough to save them? And… what if they couldn’t figure it out? He’d send them all to their death! And maybe then.. He could go home.

He heard the soft click of high heels head into one of the rooms, and drill hair flow behind her. She was hiding something in her petticoats. And so, he had no time to waste. He gripped the handle of the blade.

Yasuhiro Hagakure once thought that he had heard her name wasn’t really Celestia Ludenberg. You know, in the vision. That her name was Yasuhiro. If Yasuhiro was going to kill Yasuhiro, wasn’t that kind of like killing himself? Well, he knew he was going to be executed. So maybe it kind of was.

She didn’t even see it coming. She dropped the hammer right on the ground.

Yasuhiro had to stop himself from screaming, that would only make it worse. He dropped the weapon, blood on his shirt and in his hair. Hot and sticky and scary and he panicked. Rushed out of the room.

 

Quickly, in his blind confusion, he found his body colliding with another’s. He found himself face to face with a blur of red and white and peach. He found his face inches from this fresh face engulfed in flames. It was Taka - excuse me, what was he calling himself now? Kiyondo Ishida?

Suddenly, there was a realization. He was face to face with the person he saved. And he totally saw the blood on his clothes.

“Yasuhiro, what the fu--” And momentarily, the confusion and heat and burning fire and passion of Ishida melted ever so slightly. Into raven hair and red eyes and the right wrong moral compass hall monitor who could’ve sworn he had just stumbled into a friend of his who was hurt. “You’re bleeding!” He never thought he’d admit it, but Yasuhiro found that voice a lot more pleasant.

 

Yasuhiro waited for that realization to strike, for the moment Ishimaru looked just beyond him. Take opened his mouth and closed it again. Several times.

“...What happened?”

And Yasuhiro explained, and maybe Taka believed, it was hard to tell. But soon, Monokuma’s voice rang through the school. A body has been found. 

The trial was long and taxing and he said nearly nothing to whole time. Which wasn’t like him. In fact, it almost looked like he was lost in thought. But perhaps the reality of the situation had settled in. The others, they figured it out themselves. And despite Taka’s efforts to protect what was good and right, never a man of convenience, the others figured it out themselves. It was Naegi’s voice that snapped him back into reality.

“Yasuhiro Hagakure, you killed Celestia Ludenberg!”

And Yasuhiro had nothing to say to him. Just a soft, crackly, “Yeah.”

And that was that. It was time for them to vote, and he looked at his hands again. And he thought of what was right, and what was convenient. “...But I didn’t mean it!” He became revitalized with this sudden energy to save his skin. “I did it because I… because I had a vision! I saw it with my own two eyes! Celestia Ludenberg was going to kill Kiyotaka Ishimaru and Hifumi Yamada! I was just trying to save them - yeah!” 

Hifumi and Kiyotaka shared glances. These scared, nervous glances. 

“You believe me, right?” This sounded familiar. This sounded a lot like pleas they’ve heard before. And everyone looked on him with pity. As he was dragged away, he yelled at the closest person the hand of convenience could grasp. “Hina! You believe me, right?”

 

“Yasuhiro…” She looked down, finding the hem of her jumper far more interesting. “Your clairvoyance only has an accuracy of thirty percent.”

Monokuma’s terrible laugh rang through the room. The slot machine pulled down after every vote was taken. Ding. Ding. Ding. 

 

Yasuhiro Hagakure was found guilty. Time for his punishment.

Quiz Time! I Heard There's a Chance of 30%!

Monokuma presented him with three doors. He wondered just maybe if he chose the right door, he could get out of this place. But clearly it was not meant to be. Door A got up and left. That was convenience. Door B. That was what was right. And the third door… that was despair.

That’s exactly how Monokuma wanted it. It didn’t matter why you did it, but it still happened. You did it. And now it’s time for your punishment.

He wondered if Taka or Hifumi would think much of that, the little plead for their lives. But as Door C opened its giant maw, all he could think about… was how Yasuhiro would have thought. Taeko Yasuhiro, that was. It really was like killing yourself, wasn’t it?

The giant white teeth pierced his midsection and pulled him in. He never knew if he was right.


End file.
